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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24479752">The Power of Huntokar</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MicoJKen/pseuds/MicoJKen'>MicoJKen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Welcome to Night Vale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adorable Carlos, Alternate Universe - High School, Cecil's POV, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Not A Fix-It, Pining Cecil, Podcast, Psychic Abilities, Spider Families Grief, what if</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:14:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,565</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24479752</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MicoJKen/pseuds/MicoJKen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story about Cecil Palmer, myself, and how I helped the aspiring and beautifully perfect scientist Carlos understand the oddities of the town of Night Vale. A story that I tell to you listeners. A story about the power of Huntokar and what it does to me. This is my podcast, welcome listeners, Welcome to Night Vale.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Carlos/Cecil Palmer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Power of Huntokar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is another story that I was thinking "what if". What if Cecil was chosen by Huntokar to protect the town when he was in high school and Carlos came to Night Vale when he was also a teenager. This is just a test to see what people think. I'm doing this with five fandoms- the first being Harry Potter which I posted last month- and now its Night Vale's turn. Basically if people like it I'll write more- which this and the others would mean rewriting the whole story with the new main plot line.<br/>So let me know what you think please.<br/>I own nothing, only someone as odd and beautiful as Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor could create something so weird and amazing.<br/>Now on to the story.<br/>Enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I wasn't sure what happened or where I was, dear listeners.<br/>
The last thing I remembered was recording my experience at the radio station when I felt something- not someone, something- grab me, and then everything went black.<br/>
I had to be put into a trance to remember the next part and still I can't hear it through all the static. Or I get dizzy and faint at this trying to listen. Hopefully you can, listeners.<br/>
When next I opened my eyes I had no idea where I was. It was some kind of starry void. Gravity was non-existent; I floated in the void. My eyes opened blurrily to discern where I was. But it was no good. I had never seen a place like this before therefore had no experience in identifying it.<br/>
"Cecil." A voice called softly, coming from all around me and strangely putting me at ease.<br/>
I lulled into the starry void, on the edge of sleep. In front of me- though I could not see due to my laid back and limp position- a feminine figure floated. She had a deer skull for a head with large looming antlers and long midnight colored hair that swayed elegantly around her head. It matched her cloak which covered all sans her pale hands. The air she carried was that of a concerned creator. Not in the sense of a mother who created her child, but rather that of an artist watching as someone man-handles their creation to ready it for the cruel and judgemental public.<br/>
"Sweet Cecil." She cooed, her voice coiling around me lovingly. The way a mother cradles her newborn. "I need you to hear me. I am Huntokar, I am the destroyer. Your world has become fragile because of my mistake, Cecil. So extremely fragile. And I cannot fix it. No matter what I do, I just can't. I have weakened myself because of my mistake Cecil, and my enemies know it. Night Vale is in danger and I can't save it, not as I am now. I have come to a truce with my fellow gods. But there are others. They are dangerous Cecil. They are dangerous and want to destroy Night Vale. Whether it's for the sake of destruction or because they want to hurt me I do not know. What I do know is they're coming and will harm the town I lovingly created. I can't- no, I won't let that happen. That is why, Cecil, I am bestowing upon you some of my power. Not all, just enough so you can protect the town. Or at least, see the right choices to be made to keep the town safe. I cannot tell you how to use it. You will have to find that out on your own. Or perhaps, with the aid of an aspiring scientist. Now take my power, and let it grant you wisdom and strength."<br/>
As her words trailed off, I was enveloped in a violet sphere of light. The light was neither warm nor cold, but rather tingly and prickly. Like if a cactus had been turned inside out and I had been placed inside the cactus. The spines barely brushed my skin making me tense in anticipation. Just waiting for the stab of the spines. The sphere got smaller, closing in on me. The feeling got more intense but not unpleasant. It penetrated me. Filling me with a spark that started at my skin then pierced my heart and pumped into my veins spreading to the rest of my body. I exhaled as it rushed to my head making me dizzy. When the violet light seeped completely into my body I felt refreshed and ready. Ready for what I wasn't sure. I only knew my body was ready, my heart and mind were another story.<br/>
But could one's heart and mind ever truly be ready for the unknown?<br/>
"Now it is time for you to wake Cecil." Huntokar soothed me. "Things may be different when you wake, and you will most likely not remember this talk of ours. But know this; it did happen. And be prepared for the dangers to come.<br/>
Goodbye, Cecil. Goodbye."</p><p>With a short gasp, I, Cecil Palmer, woke.</p><p>I didn't sleep that night. Instead, I sat in the center of my bed staring at no specific spot on my wall. My mind was racing. Everything felt different, unsettled. I couldn't put my finger on what but I knew it was there. When I woke up in front of the mirror that afternoon I found that the object itself was cracked and shattered, the pieces surrounded me in odd patterns but I did not mind. I figured it was most likely the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in My Home that arranged the shards around me. She likes to rearrange broken glass. I dared not look into shards. Never again would I trust the cursed reflective power of mirrors. They weren't wat really bothered me though. What really bothered me was that I had no clue what happened. I remembered the hazy shape behind me, not being able to breathe, then... then… then nothing. It was like I was missing something important. But what?<br/>
When dawn came I still hadn't slept. Dark heavy bags under my eyes were my consequence of this, but my unease was that of something else. It was Saturday so I didn't have to go to school and had the day off from my internship, so I was free to sit and stare and wonder. But movement had caught my eye. I looked down at my exposed arm and found it... glowing. Or rather, a part of my arm, and the back of my hand was glowing. It was purple and moving. On the back of both my hands were crescent moons and on my arms looked like a collection of eyes, triangles, tribal rings and patterns, and wriggling tentacles. Freaked out I jumped off the bed and stripped to my underwear finding the marks all over my body. I grabbed my retro polaroid camera and started taking pictures, first of my face, then my front then my back letting them fall to the floor without looking at them. When I was done I picked them up with shaky hands and gave them a few shakes individually so they developed faster. The first was my chest and torso. All that was there was a triangle just under the dip of my collarbone and tentacles running up my hips and sides. Some of them were blurred as they moved when the camera went off. Next was my back, which looked like a complicated surreal painting. At the nape of my neck was another triangle with a moon in the center of it. Sprouting from the bottom of it were nine octopus tentacles that spread and coiled around my back, arms, sides, and legs. The tribal rings and spirals wrapped around my wrists and ankles and fingers. There was another triangle at the small of my back, this one had a skull and had horns- or antlers- coming out from the sides and climbed up my back interweaving with the tentacles. Gulping I looked at the one I took of my face, worried that I would have more tentacles and triangles on there. If I did my mom would kill me-she had told both me and my sister no tattoos till we were eighteen, but ifwthey just appeared overnight could they really be called tattoos? I am asking listeners, could they be called tattoos? Birthmarks maybe, like late bloomer birthmarks, but tattoos? Let me know what you think. Oh yeah, my face. If there were any major marks I was dead. But instead what I saw was a crescent moon on my forehead and nothing else. I sighed but the mark was blurry in the photo, so I took another picture to get a better look at it. When I shook it out I was surprised to find the crescent was now an eye, wide open and purple and not only that but my own eyes went from brown to pascal purple and my hair white. Shakily I took another photo and looked. The crescent was back and my eyes were brown once again. But my hair stayed white. Or at least the top was white, but the sides and back were brown. I didn’t want to take another one so instead, I collapsed on my bed and closed my eyes.<br/>
That was when I felt the crescent open and behind my own eyelids, I saw visions. Images of my mother and some boy talking with their eyes in my kitchen. Yet it wasn’t the same kitchen. It looked like my kitchen, yet there were subtle differences. Like the kettle on the stove was copper instead of red steel. Or the curtains over the window above the sink were diamond print instead of clover. Oh, and there was the kitchen light, which should have been a sixteenth-century lantern but was a fluorescent industrious light rather.<br/>
“Your brother is dead, Cal.” My mother said to the boy sitting across from her. “Cecil is dead.”<br/>
“I know.” Cal, the boy, nodded.<br/>
“What do you feel now my son?” she asked him.<br/>
“I am sad, but this is expected. You warned him not to go near mirrors. My brother Cecil died in front of a mirror. He did not listen. Poor, foolish Cecil.”<br/>
My eyes shot open and I sat up with a coked gasp.<br/>
Who was that boy? He claimed to be my brother, but I never had a brother, only a sister; Abby. So who was that boy and where was that? It was my home, but not my home. And that boy, Cal, had said his brother died in front of a mirror. I had fallen unconscious in front of that mirror last night. Was I actually dead and this was the afterlife? I pinched myself and yelped at the pain. But could you feel pain in the afterlife? Let me know what you think, listeners. Since I am not sure. I then made the decision that from this point on I would go on as if I was alive and if I found proof of otherwise then I would accept it. But for now, I needed to get to the bottom of this weirdness. I redressed- this time in a long sleeve and a hat in case I saw my sister and/or mom-  and went back to the room with the shattered mirror. Gripping the little recorder I’d grabbed from my desk I looked around the room trying to understand what happened. I replayed the recording so I could have a better picture in my mind. Closing my eyes and listening I felt the crescent open again and instead of imagining what happened, I saw it. Saw myself talking into the recorder and saw the events I was talking about. Saw the boy Cal, my brother and mother. Saw my time as an intern to Leonard. Saw the hazy… the thing behind me, but not understanding what it was. Saw it grab me, no him- for that boy I now knew was not truly me not in this reality. I saw it grab him and… it killed him. The recording stopped. But the images continued. I saw Cal find his body and call for ‘their’ mother. Saw her scream like a field mouse and call the EMTs. Saw them declare him dead and carry him off.<br/>
I opened my eyes then, I didn’t want to see anymore.<br/>
Slumping against the wall I gripped my hair and pressed my head to my knees.<br/>
“What is happening to me?” I whimpered, my eyes stinging with confusing ignorant innocents. “I… I can’t deal with this. I don’t know what to do? I need- hic- somebody help me understand what’s going on.”<br/>
"Cecil," my mother called to me from the kitchen. "Carlos is on the phone. He wanted to know if you were coming over for the psychology project."<br/>
Carlos?<br/>
CARLOS!<br/>
I felt a rush that started from my belly and zoomed to my crown making me dizzy. I felt my eyes cloud over, mostly going white and my irises going purple, and the crescent opening on my brow. Images flooded my vision. They flew past me. I saw the old movie theatre, the library and the Ralph’s pass by in a blur. They finally stilled when I reached old woman Josie’s house. Then I was in her basement. Sitting at a bench, was Carlos, taking apart a clock and taking notes as he does so.<br/>
“Time doesn’t work here, but shouldn’t Cecil be here by now?” Carlos says to himself looking out the window. “Maybe I should call him. Miss Josie,” he calls up the stairs.  “may I use the phone?”<br/>
With a gasp, I snapped out of it and fall back against the wall.<br/>
I needed to see Carlos now!<br/>
"I'm coming, tell him I'm coming!" I called back, pocketing the recorder and running to my room to grab my shoes and backpack.<br/>
Carlos can help me. He's a scientist- or will be. He'll have the answers. He has to.<br/>
Were the desperate thoughts spinning in my head.<br/>
By some miracle- or rather, the odd vision I just had- my addled brain remembered that Carlos was being fostered by old woman Josie and I immediately legged it at top speed all the way there.<br/>
The town was bustling as always. People were meandering on the sidewalk. I didn’t notice this at first, focusing so hard on getting to Carlos. But then I started to feel weird. At one point I started to feel so drowsy that I almost fell over. Then I got so angry at the City Council for some rule I never heard of. I finally noticed something was wrong when I started crying because there was a dead spider somewhere and I couldn’t do anything about it. I stopped then, looking around trying to understand what was happening. I spotted a crying man sitting on a bus bench and slowly, warily, approached him.<br/>
“Excuse me,” I called gently, the man didn’t look up, so I continued. “Why are you crying.”<br/>
“Because- I stepped on a spider.” the man sobbed. “I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. What is the poor spider's family going to do without it now? I’m so sorry.”<br/>
I, Cecil Palmer, started to sob with him. I did feel that it was sad that the spider was dead, and its family would be overwhelmed with grief. But this was not my sorrow. I should not feel so intensely about this. Now that I was focusing on the emotion I started to understand that emotion was not mine, it was alien, foreign. It simply wasn’t mine. And with that, I started to reject this. I tried to push it out like any human would do when they don’t want something. This caused a nausea-inducing headache making me groan and stagger away.<br/>
I found an empty lot behind the Desert Flower Bowling Alley where I got my bearings, I breathed and looked around. This was all too much. All this weirdness even by Night Vale standards was too much for me.<br/>
“Carlos.” I whimper, taking the less populated route to Old Woman Josie’s house.<br/>
I ignored the Angels- which do not exist, listeners, angles do not exist- when I got there and jumped the steps to the front door taking a minute to catch my breath so I didn't look completely crazy, then knocked on the door.<br/>
Thankfully Carlos answered.<br/>
Perfect beautiful Carlos, oh Carlos.<br/>
"Hey Cecil, glad you could make it." Carlos smiled politely, though he looked distracted.<br/>
"Carlos," I breathed wistfully.<br/>
"Yes?"<br/>
"I need your help."</p><p>I told him everything, listeners.<br/>
I was pacing in the basement as Carlos digested all he was told. The new tattoos- which I didn’t show him yet since I was so worked up I just started pacing- the visions, the other place where my ‘brother’ and mother talked about the death in front of the mirror. I even played him the recording. Then the weird thing that happened in town where my emotions flew out of control.<br/>
“And it’s still happening.” I cried, gesturing vaguely to Carlos. “I think you're confused but also intrigued by what I am saying.”<br/>
“How do you know that?”<br/>
“Because I feel it too and it’s causing a headache since I know I’m not really feeling all this and rejecting it.” At this, I whined, rubbing my head.<br/>
“Why are you telling me all this?” Carlos finally asked after a few minutes of silence.<br/>
“Because you're into science, you like finding answers.” I suddenly looked worried. “Wait, I’m not assuming right, I mean I-”<br/>
“No, no, your right.” Carlos assured, a cheery smile on my face. “I’m an aspiring scientist, I love finding answers.”<br/>
“So can you help me?” I asked.<br/>
Carlos put a perfectly shaped knuckle to his perfectly sculpted chin and nodded.<br/>
“I think this would be a great chance to study yet another oddity of this town. I would love to get down to the bottom of this.” He smiles.<br/>
I sighed, collapsing into an armchair suddenly exhausted from the relief.<br/>
“Let's first start with that thing where you can tell what I’m feeling.” Carlos hummed getting out his notebook. “I think that’s called empathy. Normally it just means the ability to understand other people’s feelings. But the psychic form of it is that you don’t just understand it, but actually feel what other people feel. Not much we can test with that. We already saw how it works. But we can start with the tattoos. Can you show them to me?”<br/>
I looked up and started to go red.<br/>
“Um…” I gulped. “That’s a little personal, isn’t it?”<br/>
“Don’t worry it’s for science.” Carlos assured.<br/>
“Oh well, then sure thing.” I jumped up full of energy and perfectly okay with taking off my shirt to show Carlos my new marks- I probably should have realized that I was just emapthing Carlos’s own excitement.<br/>
I took off my hat showing the now open eye.<br/>
“Huh.” I hummed. “It’s normally closed.”<br/>
“What do you mean?” Carlos asked.<br/>
“This eye, when I first saw it, it was a crescent and when I closed my eyes it opens and the visions start.”<br/>
“Can you see them now?”<br/>
“No.”<br/>
“Then how do you know for sure that it’s open?”<br/>
“Because I can see through it.” I shrugged.<br/>
“How can you tell?” Carlos asked, now taking notes.<br/>
“There is an added depth to everything. Like I can see more clearly.” I hummed again. “Like I got laser surgery or something, I can see auras too.”<br/>
“Interesting.” Carlos hummed scratching at his notebook some more.<br/>
I watched him wistfully, I couldn’t take my eyes off his perfect face as it scrunched up cutely as he focused on my marks. Drawing them in his notebook. My heart rate skyrocketed, and the tattoos started to move more and faster making Carlos raise a brow. I bit my lip and glanced sideways so as not to make this more awkward. Yet avoiding eye contact only seemed to make this worse. My skin started to get red, starting from my chest and crawling ever so slowly up my neck and face. I ended up closing my eyes as tight as I could in an attempt to blackout Carlos’s perfect eyes.<br/>
“Cecil, are you okay?” Carlos asked, pausing in his notes. “You’re kind of red.”<br/>
“I’m fi-”<br/>
But before I get the rest of the words out I start to feel dizzy.<br/>
“Carlos,” I murmured clutching my head and wobbling on my feet. “Are you feeling dizzy? I think I’m empathing with you.”<br/>
“Nope, I feel fine.” Carlos shrugged before looking serious. “Why are you feeling dizzy?”<br/>
“I’m, whoa.” I had to catch myself on the armchair.<br/>
“Cecil!” Carlos cried rushing to my side trying to help me sit. “What’s wrong?”<br/>
“Carlos- I think- I think something is-”<br/>
According to Carlos, my voice trailed off as the third eye mark opened wider, and my natural eyes began to glow bright violet. He then said my face went slack and my head tilted up. I then released a powerful wave of energy that sent him into the adjacent wall- for that I am so sorry, I’m so sorry Carlos- and levitated a few inches off the ground.<br/>
“Beware,” He said I said. “Night Vale is in danger. You must protect it. You must save it… Beware… Huntokar… Beware… Protect… Cecil.”<br/>
I then collapsed.</p><p>If you think that is the end of the story you are wrong. This is only the beginning. So much had happened since then. Night Vale is a friendly community where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful and mysterious lights pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep. But it is also a town of many secrets, and my life is not one of those.<br/>
Join me and Carlos as we attempt to understand all the secrets of this town and of my new appearance here on my Podcast Welcome to Night Vale.<br/>
For now, I wish you all pleasant dreams listeners.<br/>
Goodnight, Night Vale, goodnight.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let me know what you think.<br/>If people like it I'll write more.<br/>Hope you enjoyed, I know I had fun writing it.<br/>Thanks for reading.<br/>And I'll see you in the next story.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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